


Your Love is Thick & it Swallowed Me Whole

by carlsroofpudding



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Awkward Daryl, F/M, Fluff, Light Smut, One Shot, Outdoor Sex, Short One Shot, bethyl, confusing feelings, introspective Beth, prompt based on real life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlsroofpudding/pseuds/carlsroofpudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrilling and fast, just like a roller coaster, Daryl Dixon left her hanging on for dear life at every turn, sending her soaring through the air. Although she knew she was still safe, her stomach dropped, her heart raced because in the back of her mind, the possibility of falling was still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Love is Thick & it Swallowed Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

> So, a friend of mine texted me telling me she's been wanting to tell the guy she's been dating she loves him but after he said it during drunk sex, she wasn't sure how to take it. She wrote him a note and stuck it in his mirror. I took it upon myself to write a Bethyl fic out of it! Inspired by that and Alanis Morissette's Head Over Feet.

They had been seeing each other for a few months at that point, not that either one of them were really keeping count. That was the thing that Beth liked the most about him. He wasn’t like anyone she had ever been with. Times and dates, stupid expectations didn’t mean anything to him. There were no set plans, everything spontaneous and exciting, breathless and treacherous. 

Thrilling and fast, just like a roller coaster, Daryl Dixon left her hanging on for dear life at every turn, sending her soaring through the air. Although she knew she was still safe, her stomach dropped, her heart raced because in the back of her mind, the possibility of falling was still there. 

He’d pick her up sometimes late at night when he’d get off work and they’d go for a drive. Out in the country, you could see any car coming for miles, so Daryl would turn his lights off and walk half way, signaling for him to meet her down by the barn. Slipping on her flimsy tennis shoes and leaving her purse, Beth tiptoed down the steps, careful not to wake her parents. She felt silly at twenty-two years old sneaking out of the house to see someone she was more than able to see on her own, but something about meeting Daryl in the dead of night without anyone knowing made it that much more exciting.

Between the chirping of the crickets and the lull of the summer breeze, Beth couldn’t hear anything over her heart, beating out of her chest with every step, every movement that lead her closer to the barn. 

Standing there, leaning up against the barn, he had a cigarette in hand, filthy from a long day’s work changing oil. When she’d first pursued him, he’d told her she was too clean, too nice for such a dirty redneck like him, but there was nothing more she wanted than to feel his calloused, dirty hands on every inch of her body. 

The first time they’d met, he’d been at a bar Maggie had dragged her to. Although her birthday had been a year before, Beth had still yet to have her first drink in an actual bar and that didn’t sit right by her older sister.

“C’mon, Beth. It won’t be so bad. I’ll even let you order one of those stupid girly drinks. No hard stuff, I promise!” Maggie swore up and down. She’d had a couple bad experiences in the past trying to push alcohol on her little sister, so Beth was hesitant to drink anything she gave her.

“I’m only doing this because it’s a rite of passage thing. Not to get drunk.” Beth made the last point clear. The last thing she wanted to do was get too out of control.

Their father, Hershel, had issues with drinking in the past and Beth had always heard addiction was hereditary. It wasn’t something she wanted to get herself roped into.

“Don’t be such a goody-two shoes for once!” Glenn, Maggie’s fiance teased, giving his future sister-in-law a pinch on the elbow as the entered the bar. “Have a little fun!”

Beth stuck her tongue out at him and made her way to sit down at a table in the corner. It was a small, sports bar type place Glenn and Maggie liked to go to sometimes, nothing fancy. Pool and beer, sometimes happy hour specials with silly drink names. Every St. Patty’s Day Maggie and Glenn would go down for green beer, corned beef and cabbage. Glenn usually having too much of both and regretting it later.

She saw him sitting at the front bar in his work shirt, dark disheveled hair and deep, blue eyes, so striking they immediately took her breath away. He looked to be in his mid thirties or so, tanned skin and rough facial hair. When she flashed him a smile he frowned, quickly looking away as if he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to. He turned to the man next to him and mumbled something. She’d find out later the man next to him was his friend and coworker, Aaron.

Aaron turns to look at her and returns the smile that was originally meant for Daryl, his eyes kind and honest. He nudges Daryl with his elbow and eventually he gets up, making his way towards the table, eyes cast at the ground. She looks to the bar and sees Glenn and Maggie on the other side, talking to the bartender.

“Hey,” he grumbles awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “can I buy ‘ya a drink?”

She didn’t know until later on, until Aaron told her he was the one who made Daryl get up and ask her that day and boy was she thankful he had. Maggie would tease her, saying she got picked up at her very first bar within the first ten minutes and as cliche as it seemed, not a bit of it felt unusual to Beth. That was how people got together, how people met and fell in love, got married and were together forever. Those were the kinds of stories she’d heard people tell her whole life. From aunts and uncles, to women from her mother’s book club and hairstylist, to people in books she’d read.

And that night at that little bar, Beth was pretty sure this was how their story had begun too.

He’d been quiet at first, awkward. Not that she’d minded. Beth’s mother had often told her that men who talked a lot didn’t really have much to say. Daryl must have only had important things to say then, she’d thought to herself while stealing small glances at him from the other side of his truck, pretending to look at the scenery out the window. 

Beth wanted to know everything about him from the second she met him, but she could tell that he was holding back, keeping her at arm's length. So she decided it was her duty to find these things out on her own, without asking, somehow just knowing. Everything about him seemed so delicate in a way, like an alley cat, ready to scram at any moment. All these questions she had in her mind she knew would scare him away. So, she learned to be perceptive.

The first thing she found out was that Daryl didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. This fact was discovered when he’d snuck them into the drive in theatre, hoisting her up on the ledge the building across the street, an old blanket and radio in his backpack so they could see as well as hear the movie. Beth mused about seeing double features as a child, listing off all her favorite candies. 

He made a face at every one, shaking his head and laughing, not surprised that there wasn’t a candy she didn’t like.

It was that night they’d first kissed, the prickle of his beard tickling her lips, igniting her skin ablaze. His hands reached over to pull her close to him, her small frame completely covered. Never in her life had Beth felt more happy as she did then, knowing that they were moving towards _something_ together.

The next thing Beth found out about Daryl was that he didn’t like to be touched suddenly. Often shuddering at her touch. It broke her heart to learn that he had been abused as a child, his father a raging alcoholic, taking things out on he and his family.The scars on his back told the story of his past, from his shoulders to waist, covered in lacerations from a nightmare she couldn’t even imagine. 

She wondered how anyone could make it out of that kind of life and be as wonderful a person as Daryl was. He had yet to really show her much of himself yet, but she knew wholeheartedly that he was a good, kind man.

Beth loved all the little things she slowly started to pick up on over time. How shy he could be, so bashful around her but all the same eager and excited. Although he did not say these things, did not tell her how he felt, she could feel it in his fingertips, in his embrace. 

A small touch on the elbow to lead her in the right direction, stopping her from tripping on a root as they walk through the woods, placing a large, calloused hand on her tiny, bird-like hips. In his truck sometimes he would teach for her hand, pulling her closer to sit next to him.

Beth didn’t feel the need to say anything, all she could do was sigh happily into his arms.

The first time they have sex, Beth is so nervous she thinks she’s going to faint from anxiety before it’s even begun. Partly because she’s so overwhelmed by her own feelings on top of Daryl’s, so palpable she’s afraid any sudden movement will send them both crashing through space, clinging onto anything to keep them grounded. His hands shook so badly and he kept asking if everything he did was okay with Beth, she urged him on, placing sweet kisses along his jaw and neck, trying to calm them both down somehow. 

Slowly, his breath starts to synchronize with hers, and the sparse, scared kisses turn into lazy, dreamy, passionate kisses and in time their bodies melt together before either of them can pull back with any apprehension. 

Everything about Daryl is like that first time together. Messy and a little scary sometimes but over all more beautiful than anything she’s ever experienced. 

Afterwards, he doesn’t push her away like she expect him to. He is gentle, attentive, wrapping her up in a blanket, adorning her face in kisses. He may not be able to tell her how he feels, but his actions always show her otherwise.

Aaron slowly becomes her closest confidant in all of this, watching their relationship pan out like some sort of play. He’s known Daryl for a few years now, breaking down his walls brick by brick, not unlike Beth has been doing herself all these months. 

“You’re good for him, you know.” Aaron whispers to her as they watch Daryl tinkering under the hood of her car.

“I wish he knew that,” she says crossing her arms at her chest.

“Give him time. He’s stubborn.”

“How much time? I feel like I’ve been chipping away at him for forever.” she asks him, trying to keep her voice low.

“He likes you, don’t worry. I can tell.” Aaron lifts his eyebrows, giving her a reassuring grin.

Beth nods her head, not holding back the laugh that erupts from them both when Daryl hits his head hard.

“God damn it!” Daryl exclaims angrily, scowling as he turns around, giving Aaron the finger.

She rushes over to him, standing on her tiptoes to sooth the goose egg on his head.

He gives her a dirty look but doesn’t pull away when she kisses his cheek. More than anything she wants to comment on how clumsy he is, completely smitten with what a grump he can be.

It’s on that day she learns Daryl Dixon likes to play tough, but he’s really just heavy handed and awkward. He likes to pretend that nothing matters, that he doesn’t like the things he should, but she’d never tell him she knows these things. These are secrets between the two of them. Really only a secret between Beth and herself, but she figures it’s a start.

He’s patient with her, occasionally getting flustered, but always doing his best to keep her feelings in mind. Although he never says it, Beth thinks he must know this is important to her, as he listens intently to her ramblings, nodding his head to show her it registers. Stories from her childhood on the farm, her strict but loving parents had her tied to their apron strings, her dorky, but friendly older brother, her fearless, tough as nails older sister. 

Sitting in his apartment in the heat of summer, they listen to her old vinyl albums on the little portable record player Hershel gave her as a kid. She plays Daryl her favorites. Karen Carpenter, Stevie Nicks, Carol King. He laughs and hums along to a few songs, granting her an old soul for being into that kind of music. She knows then that Daryl isn’t one to dish out compliments, but it’s his way of saying he enjoys it, and maybe her too.

The first time she feels comfortable enough to belt out a song in front of him, he’s speechless. And that’s something she’d already knew about Daryl. That he was quiet, but after she sang that first time, he didn’t say a word, the look of awe on his face sending them both into a deep flush from either sides of the room. 

It was then he had the strength to clear his throat and say, “Damn girl, ya got a real pretty voice.”

She thanks him, taken aback by the compliment, holding her hands tightly to her chest, keeping his words there like a cherished gift, a moment she’d never forget.

It’s the first time he meets Hershel and Annette that she can see how much he really cares about her, showing up at the house not on time, but twenty minutes early. He’s got on a shirt with sleeves, combed hair and everything, more handsome than she’s ever seen him. When she leans up to kiss his cheek before he comes in the door, you’d think she propositioned him for sex right then and there, the redness not leaving his face for several minutes later, even after being greeted by both parents.

Most of the boys in high school sent her father into a tizzy, rolling his eyes at their claims for future plans, knowing they’d never amount to anything. Hershel was immediately taken with Daryl for being a hard worker, an honest man and over all good to his daughter. That was more than he could hope for, knowing he had passed this test, given Hershel’s seal of approval, he was plenty good enough for Beth despite any misconceptions he may have had about himself.

That same night, Glenn shows up after work with beers, meeting the two Greene sisters in the barn. Daryl and Glenn have their fill, Maggie and Beth not far behind. She’d never been one for drinking much herself, but something about the way her body softened, the way Daryl smiled more, pulled her against him in front of other people for the first time ever made her think it couldn’t hurt. 

“What is it?” Maggie whispers to her as they tiptoe back outside from the bathroom, the beer going right through them both.

“I just, ugh,” Beth sighs, laughing and looking away from her sister, “I just want him so badly, but it’s so hard because he’s so shy.”

“Doesn’t look so shy tonight!” Maggie winked at her, running ahead to take a seat next to Glenn on the hay.

“Hi,” she breathed out quietly against his lips, finding herself unable to go anywhere else, his body like a magnet to hers.

“Hey,” he growls back, wrapping his hands around her waist. 

“Let’s go somewhere,” Beth whispers in his ear, pushing her hips against his.

“We are somewhere.”

“No, I mean, somewhere _else_ ,” she laughs in his ear, the alcohol keeping her from composure, not as worried about scaring him away. Liquid courage, she thinks.

Not answering her, Daryl takes her hand and pulls her from the barn down a ways a little bit.

“This what you had in mind?” He snickers, sitting them down near a clearing under a big oak tree.

“Yes, exactly what I had in mind.”

His eyes are hazy, lids heavy from the alcohol but something else is hiding there, something she hasn’t seen before. He smirks at her, pulling her into his lap.

“C’mere.”

Beth moans into his mouth, matching every kiss hungrily, eager for as much of him as she can get as quickly as possible. He laughs against her lips, wrapping his fingers in her hair, caressing her body everywhere he can touch, sending sparks through every cell, every piece of flesh he touches, clothed or not. 

Her need for him intensifying with every needy kiss, Beth feels the heat pooling between her legs, the stiff denim of his jeans rubbing up against her ever so deliciously. She runs her hands up the front of his shirt, needing more from him.

“Mmm, yer sister is right over there, darlin’. We can’t.”

“I don’t care,” she whispers against his chest, his want for her just as apparent, his hard cock riding up against his jeans. “I need you, Daryl.”

He nods his head, understanding. Taking his mouth back to hers, he does as he’s told, more at ease than she’s ever seen him. Maybe it’s the alcohol, she thinks. Maybe it’s making it easier for him to be with her, all his inhibitions floating away with a bloodstream fueled by cheap beer. 

Now that they both have their guards down, the chance to fully expose themselves is there and Beth is going to take it. Taking charge, she goes for his belt buckle, her drunk fingers fumbling to get it undone, his cock springing free in her hands. Stroking his length fully in both hands, he gasps, throwing his head back. She wants so badly for him to feel everything she’s been thinking, everything she’s been wanting to say. She imagines her words transferring through their skin, her love for him seeping through every pore, traveling to his brain, signaling the information. 

Then he would know, she would never have to utter the words and he would feel it. Looking into her eyes, he would know that Beth loved him. That she was utterly, hopelessly head over heels in love with him.

Dropping her head to take him in her mouth, he shudders at the sensation, one hand at her back, the other under her shirt at her chest, working her nipples between his fingers.

Daryl would never ask this of her, never push her head down like inexperienced, brutish teenage boys of her past. He would never assume she’d want to do this, having told her she didn’t the first time she offered, but there’s nothing she loves more than watching him squirm under her mouth.

 _“Beth,”_ he sighs as she goes deeper, his head pressing against the back of her throat. 

_“Beth...”_ he says again, his voice becoming strained, his grip tightening on her as she increased speed, pumping his base with her hands.

 _“I-I love you,”_ Daryl says in a whisper so faint, she’s not sure she even heard it at all. 

And there are tears in her eyes now, not because she’s drunk or because it’s not the exact moment she’d hoped he’d say this, but because she’s not sure he said it at all.

Coming up for air, she settles her head against his chest, hand still working away at him. She knows know that he must have said it, because it’s different. Everything feels different. The air has changed and his grip on her isn’t just needy, but demanding.

“Come here,” he slides off her panties, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. 

Beth sets the pace as best as she can, working her hips up and down just so, trying to find the angle she likes, the angle that makes his eyes roll back in his head. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol, but if she weren’t drunk, she’d definitely be surprised with herself for this kind of behavior, but at this point in time, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get as much of Daryl Dixon as she can.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groans, bucking his hips against hers, thrust for thrust, his fingers circling her clit faster and faster. 

She comes right before him, nails digging into his chest, she knows he’ll have nail marks tomorrow, even with his shirt on. Right as his orgasm hits, their eyes lock and she sees how truly beautiful he really is. All his flaws, all his imperfections more gorgeous to her than any of his doubts and misconceptions. It’s in that moment that Beth doesn’t care if he said it or not because she knows that she’ll get the chance to hear him say it again.

Or so she hopes.

-=-

When he doesn’t answer her phone calls for three days, Beth knows that he did say it. 

She wishes so desperately that she had pushed forward and said it herself, even if it had scared him away. There was no way she’d be able to smooth this over, heal this wound after he had so carefully put up obstacles for her to overcome in their relationship. And she felt she had failed him, probably broke his heart into a million pieces. 

And she internally kicks herself for it because she does love him. She loves him so much it’s stupid. And it’s stupid because if she had only told him all along, the second she knew it, maybe he wouldn’t have been so scared. So skittish like a black alley cat, his hair standing up, fangs bared, ready to defend himself at any moment’s notice.

Everything about Daryl, her love for him, the chaos of the situation swallowed her entirely, consuming her wholly.

Beth confides in Aaron and his boyfriend, Eric, wallowing in self pity and anger for her behavior, wishing so badly she knew how to make things right between them.

“Go see him,” Eric urges her, handing Beth another glass of a wine. “He’s not going to turn you down if you just explain what happened.”

“I’ve already tried calling him. If Daryl was going to call me back, he would have by now.”

Aaron shrugs his shoulders. “That’s not necessarily true. With Daryl there’s no way of telling what he’s really thinking unless he tells you himself.”

It was the that Beth realized she may not have known Daryl as well as she thought she had. Suddenly, the list of things she had gathered in her head, the facts about him, seemed so childish and trivial compared to all the things that mattered. Compared to the things that Aaron had come to know about him over the years, there was no way she could have gathered all of that information about him in a few short months. 

Hanging her head in shame, she drives over to his apartment. He’s not home, his motorcyle gone from the parking spot next to his truck. Daryl had given her a key for emergencies, adamant that if anything ever happened to her, he’d want to be able to find her. That was important to him, keeping Beth safe. She knew that. In the way he made her walk on the inside of the sidewalk, the way he sometimes fastened her seatbelt for her in the truck. On night’s she’d spent out with Maggie or her girlfriends, he’d always urge her not to walk alone and to let him know that she got home safely.

Letting herself into his small one bedroom, she takes in the apartment without him there, never having experienced it alone. Daryl is a simple man, not much decor in the room. A few bookshelves lined with classics and practical how-to guides. Old thrift store couches and an arm chair she’d help him lug home one afternoon. It was in perfectly good condition and Beth loved that about him. Anyone else would turn their heads and drive along, like Maggie so often did, but Daryl carried it up the stairs, helped her clean it off.

Sitting down in the armchair, she grabs a notepad off the coffee table he usually uses for groceries and to do lists. Gripping the pen in her fingers, she writes his name carefully, concentrating on each letter with precision.

_I love you, Daryl Dixon. Please call me._

She folds the note up neatly, tucking it in the corner of his bedroom mirror, knowing it’s the first place he’ll sees it when he gets home.

-=-

Two nights later, she sees his signal from her bedroom window. Getting up from seat above the window, she throws her shoes on and a light sweater, the air starting to turn as summer was coming to an end. 

This time there is no cigarette, no sly grin, only her note in his apprehensive hands, the expression on his face to match. Something so somber, so sad about his face, shook her to her core and she hated herself for being the one to make him feel that. 

“Daryl, I-” before she can finish he takes a step forward, putting both hands on her lower back, fingers gripping her like he had that last night.

“You don’t gotta say anythin’. Shouldn’t have said it like that, wasn’t right, we was both way too drunk.” He shakes his head, moving one hand to her arm, running it up and down eventually intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I’ve been thinking it, been feeling it for weeks, months probably,” she licks her lips, taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words for him, the words she knows he needs to desperately to hear and she needs to badly to express. “when you said it, I didn’t know how to take it.”

“It ain’t easy fer me to say,” Daryl barely whispers, looking down at her.

“I know that. I wanted to make things easier for you, but I made it so much worse by not saying anything because I didn’t want to scare you away.”

The corner of his mouth turns into a grin and he lifts his hand to stroke her cheek. “Beth, I’d be a fool to run away because you told me ya loved me.”

“That’s what I did, didn’t I?”

“Naw, not the same thing.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, listening the the sounds of the forest behind them, the animals in the barn making soft noises as they slept. Things would be okay between them now. Their story would pan out.

“I’m sorry, Daryl,” she says, burying her face into his chest, inhaling the smell of must and cigarettes.

“Don’t gotta be sorry. _I’m_ sorry,” he chuckles, running his hands through her loose locks. “I love you, girl. You know that?”

“I do,” she breathes out deeply, a full on smile breaking out on her lips, “I love you too, Daryl.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also this was me procrastinating working on my two other fics xp


End file.
